


The Secret of the Glass

by Kurtssingh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Padawan Qui-Gon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurtssingh/pseuds/Kurtssingh
Summary: There was a secret hiding in Dooku's bathroom, and Qui-gon was the only one he'd share with.
Relationships: Dooku/Qui-Gon Jinn
Kudos: 22





	The Secret of the Glass

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【星战】玻璃的秘密（DQ）（pwp）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177428) by [lesliecaviezel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesliecaviezel/pseuds/lesliecaviezel). 



Of course, there was a public bathroom in the Jedi Temple; and without a doubt, Dooku of Serenno would never allow himself or his Padawan Qui-gon Jinn to set foot to such place which had absolutely no taste. Therefore, this tall, elegant man demanded to have a private bathroom for him and his Padawan only. He even participated in the selection of building materials in person — grained marble, solid wood and frosted glass. 

Dooku’s meticulous attitude and stylish appearance imperceptibly influenced Qui-gon. The young man followed the example of his Master, and soon they both had become quite the eye-pleasing view in the Temple. Although the beige-haired youth was a fast learner, there were still a few inconspicuous details he sometimes forgot to take care — like a wrinkle at the back of his tabard. When that happened, Dooku would rest his hands on Qui-gon’s shoulder to help to pull and flatten the cloth. As those slender and deft fingers ran over Qui-gon’s back, arms and waist, the sensation made the young man’s heart shiver. 

He yearned for Dooku’s touch. 

When Qui-gon walked across Dooku’s place and entered that unbelievably large bathroom, he expected something more than just a hot shower — he wished for something from his Master. The quiet and humble Padawan placed his clothes on the wooden chair, stepped onto the darkened marble floor and allowed the warm water to pour all over his head. It was able to take away the dirt and fatigue, but it could never wash away the heat that burnt inside Qui-gon’s chest. Occasionally, the young man had to press the pump to get a handful of body wash and breathed in its smell of fresh cedar as if it was the only cure that might save him from being consumed by the flame of desire. He applied the body wash and later carefully cleaned it up to make sure the scent still lingered in _subtlety_ — because it belonged to Dooku, his Master, one and only. 

Few people knew Qui-gon’s favourite was actually honey, and even fewer of them noticed he and Dooku sometimes shared the similar smell of cedar. No one except for Qui-gon himself knew the truth — he just wanted to be sunk in his Master’s scent. 

After the shower, the young man walked out with a towel and his Jedi garments, pretending nothing ever happened — even if he had touched himself in the hazy steam. The lovely smell reminded him of his dear Master, which made him vulnerable and wanting — he couldn’t help it. While walking past Dooku and meeting those pair of cold brown eyes, Qui-gon let out a soundless sigh which eventually merged with the steam that escaped from the bathroom.

Dooku had made love with Qui-gon once. The young man desired more, yet he was never the initiative one, and the most important thing was, he still felt uncertain about their new relationship from time to time because of Dooku’s always-seemed-serious face.

Today, however, seemed a little bit different.

“Please find a tin in the nightstand for me, Padawan,” Dooku’s voice was so solemn that it was able to press a certain weight on Qui-gon’s shoulder. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. I believe when I finish, you will find what you seek.” 

“Yes, Master,” Qui-gon nodded and watched his Master strut towards the bathroom. After the door had been closed for several minutes, the young man finally remembered his mission and hurriedly ran to Dooku’s nightstand. 

It didn’t take Qui-gon very long to find the tin. The obedient Padawan held it in his hand and stood still, waiting for his Master. This time it took Dooku longer than usual, which started to worry Qui-gon as he felt he had been waiting for centuries; so he turned around, facing the bathroom. 

The scene in front of Qui-gon struck him like lightning, and he blinked his eyes hard to make sure he was not hallucinating. _This is real_ , Qui-gon gasped. The broad back muscles of Dooku came into view faintly in the steam with a gleam of heated pink. His biceps tightened and relaxed in rhythm as he rubbed his hair in circular motions. The smell of fresh cedar flooded towards Qui-gon, which made him wish that he could just stumble backwards and run away from such seduction, but his legs didn’t move even a little bit like he was pinned in place by some unknown force.

Qui-gon had seen his Master naked before, yet no matter how many times he saw it, the bright red would always crawl onto his face. Thus he had to press one hand over his chest tightly to prevent his heart from beating too fast. This was everything Qui-gon ever wanted to see. This was everything he ever _wanted_. The young Padawan took a deep breath, raised the tiny tin close to his burning cheek. The coolness of the metal managed to calm him down, which also gave his mind enough space to realise that —

 _The glass was translucent from this angle._ Nervousness and shame wormed into Qui-gon’s spine. _Does it mean Master Dooku has seen everything I have done in there?_ He had no idea how to explain those absurd behaviours to the older man. _Will Master Dooku regard me as a terrible Padawan?_ The young man panicked. There was no way he could confess to Dooku that his misbehaviour was all but because of his elegant, charming Master. 

Qui-gon squeezed his fingers out of anxiety and lowered his eyes to avoid continuing looking at Dooku, who was merely revealing his _back_ to him. The delicious image of his Master’s slim but strong arms and hands, however, was still able to leap to the eye. Qui-gon’s body — which was once thoroughly caressed by them — heated up.

He remembered the day he was severely wounded, Dooku held him in those arms tightly and rushed to the medbay. Sometimes Qui-gon dreamed of getting injured again so that his Master could carry him like that once again.

Most of the time, Dooku preferred to put his arms beneath the cape. But there was one time, right before the ship was about to land, Dooku suddenly wrapped one arm around Qui-gon’s waist gently, pulling his beautiful Padawan, who was licking a hard honey candy, towards him. The older man’s lips and tongue found Qui-gon’s, melting the rich sweetness in both’s breath.

Qui-gon blamed himself for recalling these inappropriate memories. His face blushed yet he still fixed his eyes on Dooku shyly, legs refusing to move. He eventually managed to calm his heart, but the tunic collar was dishevelled.

Dooku turned around, (un)fortunately in a forty-five-degree angle. The wet hair dangled and covered his keen eyes. Qui-gon let out a long sigh, couldn’t help but peek at his Master’s toned waist. He dared not look down further, mostly because of the unbearable shame — he knew how strong and capable _that part_ was.

It was that night, Qui-gon made a small mistake, and Dooku decided to punish him for it. The moment Dooku’s rough and callused hand landed on Qui-gon’s bare skin, the young Padawan knew his face was as red as a poppy. Dooku didn’t spank him hard, but Qui-gon still begged for mercy with a soft whimper. The Master did stop, but instead, he used some _specific method_ to let his Padawan willingly moan more and louder under his body.

He remembered how _willing_ he was. The erotic memories deeply tempted him that he didn’t realise his Master was standing in front of him.

“Good. Looks like you’ve found it,” it was Dooku’s even voice that broke the awkward silence. Qui-gon was not ready to clear his thoughts; he looked lost and almost dropped the tin. Luckily, it spun and landed safely in Dooku’s hand.

“I sense a disturbance. Is there something wrong, my dear Padawan?” The older man teased.

“Master, I think I saw-” Qui-gon swallowed. 

“Shh,” Dooku shook his index finger, and it almost touched Qui-gon’s lips. “Don’t you want to open it first?” He gave the tin back and blinked his eyes slyly.

Hesitantly, Qui-gon chose to obey his Master’s order first. He opened the cover and was instantly surprised by the sweet scent: “Honey body lotion?” He asked out of instinct.

Dooku’s smile proved that Qui-gon was right.

“But Master, how do you know-”

Dooku’s shadow enveloped him, stopping him from speaking. “I know, Qui-gon. I know about all your little secrets,” the older man whispered.

Being surrounded by the strong scent of cedar, Qui-gon had lost count of how many times he had blushed in a single day. _He knows about the scent, he knows about my doings, he knows about how much I want him._ He felt his Master’s grey stubble gently brushing on his cheek. He could sense that he would soon feel the tenderness of his Master’s lips. This was exactly what he desired, and he no longer needed to struggle for whether or not he should ask for it. Dooku _knew_ from the very beginning.

Qui-gon turned his head, mustered his courage to kiss Dooku on the lips lightly. His last bit of hesitation was gone as Dooku grinned and kissed back.

“You know, Qui-gon,” Dooku’s hands were around his Padawan’s waist, fastening the belt. “Personally, I don’t judge honey by its aroma or colour. Flavour is the only thing I pursue.” 

Qui-gon’s outer tunic was taken off, hanging loosely on the waist.

“It must be smooth and sweet. Just like...”

Qui-gon was so certain that his Master was gently and slowly sucking his reddened earlobe. At the same time, his inner tunic slid off from the wrist. 

“Just like _this_. Then it’s worth tasting.”


End file.
